Boards

and for which there has never been a satisfactory explanation.
this thread can cover paranormal things- I know a girl who was in a meeting, standing drawing drawing on a whiteboard, and the next minute she was back in her seat- there was nothing on the whiteboard, and she was then prompted to go and due her thing on the whiteboard. sounds like a seizure to me, but she has never had anything like it happen again.

I also have a friend whose boyfriend of 2 years just vanished. he's still alive and everything but he went out one day and didn't come home. left his job and moved to a neighbouring town. changed his phone number. All so weird. he's on facebook. She's so far managed to resist the temptation to confront him and say WHAT THE VERY FUCK?????

but can we have a thread tomorrow where we all bitch about how "alternative medicine" and everything that falls therein is a load of shit for exploiting people? going home now so not really got time for it but i think a thread where 95% of us share the same view and shout at the other 5% is what the board needs right now

Homeopathy is obviously a crock of shite, but herbalism is brilliant. And aromatherapy is good. As for the best of all- acupuncture. Acupuncture cured my PMDD, depression and anxiety. Actually cured it.

Don't get me started! We had this really obnoxious backstage singer in a production we recently did who was having an argument with the director about it - he obviously thought it was a crock of shit. She kept talking down to him, being very condescending "Well, I have a PHD in it, and you don't, so..." She was basically implying that his dad wouldn't have died - of cancer - when he was 16 if he'd tried it. His final words to her were "If you can prove to me that Homeopathy is beyond doubt not just a placebo, then I'll get 'FANCY THAT' tattooed ON MY COCK!"

this young guy on a racing bike came through the tunnel on the road side. noo and me both looked away for a few seconds, before turning back to the cyclist who had just passed us. spooky thing was to us, that the cyclist was an elderly chap on an elderly chap type very much non-racing bike. spooked and bored of smoke bombs, we left the tunnels to go and start fires in the woods.

he was 17 or so and well flaky. Spooky thing was, whilst raiding the biscuit cupboard back home after school, i could have sworn the dog was still there. I even did a double take and was like, hey, Mum, i could swear our dog is still here. Turns out he was and it wasn't spooky at all, it just wasn't his turn to go yet.

heartnbreaking, but I can kind of understand what you mean. it helps you [roceess that they relaly have gopne. Argh can't think too closely about this. The odler of eth two pugs has a degenerative spinal disease and despite this has an awesome quality of life but that could change sudddenly, with little warning, aT ANY POINT AND I FEEL LIKE EVERY TIME I SEE HER I CUDDLE HER TOO HARD FOR FEAR THTA IT MIGHT BE THE LAST TIME, sHE JUST LOOKS AT ME WITH HER BEWILDRED BUT HAPPY FACE. woops, capslock!

maybe it was an extended dinner or a concert, it's hard to remember. I had stayed at home to work on a paper that was due the next day (I was one of those kids who procrastinated until the last minute) and spent the whole night working at the desk in my room. To give you a picture of the room, my desk faces a wall and sits next to a small window that's on the same wall, and from where I sit, my back faces my doorway. While I was working, I was wearing these great headphones that I had gotten for my birthday — the kind that are noise canceling.

My parents left the house around 6:00 PM, and the whole time they were gone, I sat at my desk, blasting music through my headphones and writing my essay. Occasionally, I would take breaks and watch the rain and lightning outside my window. I never left my desk.

My parents returned around 11:00 PM. At some point late late in the evening, I had removed my headphones, so when my parents came home (coincidentally just a few minutes after I had taken off my headphones), I clearly heard the garage door open and my parents open the door to the house. Seconds after I hear them enter, I hear my mother shout my name. "HYG! What on earth happened in here!?" Confused, I get out of my chair and start walking through the house to them. There's only a small hallway that separates my room from the living room. Due to my rush to figure out why my mother was yelling, I paid little attention to the hall and the house. After a few moments, I get to my parents. My mum looks livid. She's pointing at the carpet floor yelling, "Was this you!? Did you have friends over!?" I look down. The carpet is ruined. It's covered in muddy footprints.

I frantically explain to her that I have no idea how those got there, that I spent the whole night at my desk working on my paper. I watch as her face goes from anger, to confusion, to fear. We realize that someone else must have entered the house. Quickly we scan the footprints, trying to make sense of the situation. It only takes us a few moments to figure out where they start: our back door, which we usually left unlocked. Then we noticed something else. The footprints started at the backdoor, but there were no footprints exiting the back door.

We hear something pounding through our house. We hear the front door get torn open, then slammed shut with a sharp WHAM!

We all run into the garage and lock the door. My mum starts shouting at the police through the phone, "Please come quickly! Someone's broken into our house!" After what seems like hours, the police arrive. An officer stays with us in the garage as his partner goes through the house room by room. His partner tells us that it's safe to go back in, that there's no one in the house. Then she asks us a question. She asks us whose room is down the hall to the left. My parents look at me and I tell the officer that it's mine. She asks us to follow her down the hall.

As we go, it's easy to see that the footprints weave through my house from the back door. They go through the living room, through the small hallway, into my parents room (which is down the hall to the right) and then turn around towards my room. They stop in my doorway.

Then the officer points at my door, which I had left open the whole night. On it, in black sharpie, was written the following:

The night that the Pan Am flight blew up over Lockerbie, I apparently announced ot my family round the dinner table that I had a horrid feeling a plane was going ot crash into our townm that night.

I didn't quite get it right, as we're in central-west Scotland and Lockerbie is in the borders, but about 20 minutes after saying this the bomb detonated and the plane came down. My parents regarded me very warily for quiet a while after that. I still have no idea what made me say it. there have been other things too but too tenuous for me to embarrass myself by sharing them.

girl i know met this safrican guy in london while she was there for nye, then she went back to brazil but they had a long distance relationship for a bit. split up with him but 2 years later bumped into him in the middle of sau paulo with his new also brazilian girlfriend

An old lady called in to my old workplace asking to speak to someone who no longer worked there.

I informed her but she insisted that she speak to the ex colleague. I asked her name so I could check if she had any other workers attached her 'case'.

I type in the name and as it is taking a while to load I ask her to hold. She is on hold when her record pops up. Her name is found, next to her name is the name of her key worker which I indeed that of the woman that used to work there. Next to all of this is a big red notice saying deceased. Next to this is the date of death: 6 years to the day ago.

I was pretty sceptical to be honest until this thing started reading my mind and was able to answer things that only I would know. One was the title of a film I thought up as a teenager with an awful title that only I knew, and never told a soul ever. I was half convinced it was me moving the ouija board thing so held my finger on while looking the other way and having the letters read to me by my ex. I took my hand off when I realised half way though it was answering correctly.

Trustworthy, middle-aged types, were driving through the countryside late one evening a couple of years ago and both saw a big table laid out in a layby with loads of food and folks sitting around wearing medieval dress. They thought it was some kind of re-enactment, so did a u-turn to check it out. Nothing there. They researched the area and there used to be an old coaching house on that very spot. Awesome.

once me and my housemate at the time both independently came back from town having bought the same clothing dye for our jeans from robert dyas, with neither of us having done it before, more of a weird coincidence than spooky but it is the best I have got

Somewhere on the Kintyre peninsula, very weird vibe. For the whole time we were there, I had these intense dreams, all night every night, that would involve brutal carnage & violence, often perpetrated by me, and I'd wake up exhausted. During the days I was sort of depressed but not really with any affective emotional content, just empty & dead inside, very uncharacteristic of me and I've never experienced it before or since. I also sleepwalked, which I've never done before or since.

There were other things that went on which I won't bother to describe because (1) they're kind of hard to reconstruct, as my memory of the whole five days is very surreal & trippy, and (2) when I do try to talk about them, it all just sounds like a scary around-the-campfire bullshit story. But think Jack Nicholson in the first half of The Shining and you'll get some idea.

After we left, the weird feeling slowly ebbed away and within a few days I was back to normal. The memory of that week now has a dreamlike quality, or like it was told to me by someone else and I'm supplying the mental images, as though it didn't really happen to me at all. I can't remember anything about the days. My g/f was doing a drawing course - which was why we were there in the first place, I had a university thesis to write and had just tagged along - so she'd be off doing that, while I think I just brooded & mooched about the house. I didn't do any work, and am pretty sure I didn't go outside. But I can't really remember.

Found out later that the whole area around where we were staying is very occulty and witchy. Aleister Crowley used to have a house there.